The Next Step
by butterflywhisper
Summary: When a tragic event occurs, Grissom and Sara realize that friendship may not be enough anymore. Can they take that next step? GSR


Disclaimer: I do not own nor hold any rights to CSI or any of its characters. Those all belong to Anthony Zucker, Alliance Atlantis and/or CBS. I also no rights to the M&Ms brand name.

A/N: Thanks go out to the my awesome CSI pal 22114 and her comment about elephants in the room. It was the inspiration for this story. Funny how one odd comment about a totally different situation can become the inspiration for a GSR story. Goes to show that when you have GSR on the brain, anything is possible!

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**The Next Step**

The tension hung thick in the ER waiting room of the Desert Palms Hospital. No one talked. Casual conversation seemed almost sacrilege as the life of their colleague and friend hung in the balance. And there was no need to rehash the nightmare they all had just lived through. They all had watched as Nick suffered in his glass tomb. They were all there to see his hold on sanity start to slip. They were all there to watch as the fire ants started to eat him alive. And they had all been there to rescue him only to watch him curl up into a mass of quivering flesh. So they kept vigil in edgy silence.

Catherine and Warrick sat together, leaning on each other, quietly drawing strength from each other. Greg poured his boundless energy into alternating between pacing and sitting in a chair nervously bouncing his leg. Nick's mother sat quietly sobbing while her stoic husband held her.

Sara sat perched on the edge of a hard plastic chair in the corner. Her hands were clasped tightly together and tucked between her knees. It was the only way she could keep them from shaking. Glancing upwards, she silently cursed the cool air coming from the vent above her even though she knew it wasn't the vent's fault. She hadn't been able to stop shivering since Grissom, Greg and she had arrived at the hospital just a few minutes behind the ambulance that had carried Nick from his glass coffin.

The events of the last day just kept playing over and over again in her mind like a film reel on an endless loop. She had – they all had – come so close to losing so much. Thank goodness they had found Nick in time. The thought of losing her friend, her pseudo-brother, sent another shiver coursing along her spine. Any longer and he probably would have been dead.

But the fear of losing Nick was nothing compared to that of almost losing Grissom. She squeezed her eyes shut as she relived the anxiety and fear she had felt when she had heard of the explosion and not knowing whether Grissom was dead or alive. Even now, her breath caught at the thought of all she could have lost. Even worse, he could have died and he wouldn't even have known how much she loves him or if he even felt anything more than friendship for her.

The last few months since she had finally opened up to him about her violent childhood had been the best of her life. They had spent practically every waking moment together since then and their friendship had blossomed. They were closer now than they had ever been before, even before coming to Vegas.

But something else had been growing right along with their friendship. Their attraction for each other was also strengthening. Although she would never give up a minute spent in his presence, she did not know how much longer she could take this added tension. She knew he felt it, too. She saw it in his eyes every day. She heard it every time her name fell from his lips. She felt it whenever he touched her. Then, earlier today, before he left to deliver the ransom money, their eyes clung together neither one wanting to break the contact knowing that there was always the possibility he may never come back. Yet, despite all this, he refused to take their relationship to the next level. It was always the pink elephant in the room that he refused to discuss.

Looking up from the tiles of the waiting room floor, she saw him standing staring out the window with his fists dug deep in his pockets and his jaw clenching and unclenching. He was an emotional wreck not that anyone could tell unless they really knew him and Sara did. She knew that the quieter and more stoic he become, the more he was feeling. She also knew that he was probably blaming himself for Nick's kidnapping even though there was nothing he could have done to prevent it.

Rising from the uncomfortable chair, she wrapped her arms around her thin frame and wandered over to stand by his side.

Staring out the window, he saw nothing. His mind was elsewhere, thinking, wondering what he could've done differently to prevent this, what he might've done to find Nick sooner. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind yet it always came back to one. It was his fault. He should've been a better supervisor. He should've played politics. If he had, then Ecklie couldn't have found fault with him and he wouldn't have broke the team up. Nick would've still been working grave and wouldn't have caught that swing shift case.

He rubbed the back of his neck. The tension of the day was starting to take its toll and the first tendrils of a headache were wrapping themselves around his mind. He wished it didn't become a full-blown migraine but he didn't hold out much hope.

Suddenly, the faintest hint of vanilla wafted around him. The familiar scent eased some of his anxiety yet set his heart fluttering. As Sara joined him, a new tension invaded his body. Whenever she was near, he just wanted to wrap his arms around her, to hold her close and never let her go. To kiss her soft lips and to worship her as they made slow, sweet love. But he couldn't. They had not taken that step yet and maybe never would. Yet another thing that was his fault. If he had half her courage, they would've moved beyond friendship years ago. But his fears – his stupid, illogical fears – always held him back.

They stood in mutual silence staring out at the lights of the Vegas night until she felt his warm gaze upon her. Turning her head, she met his eyes as he quirked an eyebrow in question.

Smiling faintly, she murmured, "I just needed to be near you."

The corners of his lips curled up slightly in a hint of a smile. Gazing into each other's eyes, they both knew there was no one else they would rather be going through this with than each other.

Turning back towards the window, they kept their silent vigil waiting to hear any news and praying that Nick would be alright.

Another half-hour passed before a sudden commotion behind them caught their attention. Everyone was out of their seats and the anxiety emanating throughout the waiting room increased tenfold.

A doctor stood just outside the swinging doors of the ER running his fingers through his hair and asking for the family of Nick Stokes. Everyone started rushing forward only for the team to stop short when Catherine raised her hand to halt their progress. She shook her head and silently mouthed "No." Out of respect for his parents, she wanted them to receive whatever news there was – good or bad – first. Family always comes first. As a mother herself, Catherine recognized that.

They all watched in nervous silence hoping to catch a stray word or two. After several long minutes, the doctor slipped between the swinging doors as Nick's mother collapsed into the arms of her husband. A collective gasp could be heard throughout the waiting room. As the team looked at each other, they all saw the same fear in each others' eyes. The news couldn't be good.

Turning towards his son's colleagues, Judge Stokes stood with one arm around his wife while waving the team forward with his free hand. They hesitantly formed a tight circle around Nick's parents desperate for any news yet dreading the worst.

As Sara glanced around the circle of family and friends, she noticed that one person was missing. Glancing back, she saw Grissom standing outside that circle of family and friends. He was close enough to hear yet once again isolating himself. She could see that he was reverting to his deeply ingrained coping mechanism of withdrawal. It concerned her to know that he was hurting but wouldn't allow himself the comfort of friendship and camaraderie. It hurt to know that he was blaming himself when he had nothing to be sorry for. She held her hand out to him hoping to draw him into their circle of friends but he just shook his head. With a slight nod of acknowledgment, she turned back to listen to Nick's father but couldn't concentrate on the words. Suddenly Greg grabbed her around the waist in a tight hug then swung her around. Judging by the grins and relief on everyone's faces, the news must have been good and she joined in the celebration.

Several minutes passed before she looked around for Grissom. She wanted desperately to rejoice in this good news with him, to share their relief, to hold him and to be held in his arms if even for only a few seconds. For once, they wouldn't have to worry about what others might think. They would just be two co-workers celebrating the recovery of one of their own. However, her concern for his welfare grew by leaps and bounds as she realized that he wasn't around. He had left. He probably wanted to be alone to deal with his feelings but she needed him. She needed his comfort and strength. She needed his friendship and security. And she wanted to give that all back to him in turn. Whether or not he would admit it, he didn't need to be alone right now either. Her heart was heavy knowing that he was somewhere out there in the night all alone and hurting.

She searched her mind for an excuse to leave without seeming like she was abandoning her friends when Catherine suggested that they all head to the cafeteria for sustenance. Stifling a fake yawn, she made her excuses claiming extreme exhaustion. She received strange glances from Warrick and Greg as they all knew she slept very little but left her leave without a question. They parted ways at the entrance of the waiting room. Rushing to the parking lot, she looked around for Grissom's vehicle making sure he truly had left only to realize that she was now stranded. Considering her options, she quickly dismissed the idea of returning to the hospital to wait for a lift back to the lab to retrieve her car. She desperately needed to find Grissom and find him _now_. Whipping out her cell phone, she called for a taxi then anxiously paced the entire fifteen minutes it took for the cab to arrive. Back at the lab, she quickly hopped into her car never bothering to glance around the parking lot. All her thoughts were concentrated on getting over to Grissom's as fast as she could.

She drove to Grissom's townhouse on automatic pilot. Over the last couple months, they had been spending so much time at his place that the route from the lab to the townhouse had become second nature. Arriving at his place, she was confused. His SUV wasn't around and the townhouse was dark. Still, she knocked on the door and when there was no answer, she called out his name. Worried that he could possibly be drinking himself into a stupor, she used the key he had given her just a couple weeks ago and walked in once again calling out for him. She quickly checked all the rooms only to turn up empty-handed and her concern only grew. There was only one of two places where she knew he might go. Either he was out riding roller coasters or he had retreated to the lab, his home-away-from-home. At this late hour, the roller coasters would probably be all closed. Feeling foolish for not first checking there, she realized that she would have to return to the lab.

Grissom was sitting at his desk with his hands propped up on his forehead. He had been staring at the report for at least a half-hour but if someone asked what it said, he couldn't tell them. He wouldn't even been able to name the case. Everything seemed to be falling apart and there was nothing he could do to stop it. First, there was the Max Lawson case with the fingerprint that he discovered while on the stand during the appeal which led to Ecklie opening the internal inquiry that became his downfall. He was still angry with Ecklie. He had been on a witch hunt and he broke up the team even though everyone knew the inquest's conclusions were self-serving. With only half a team, everyone was pulling more doubles and triples and the stress was starting to get to everyone.

Sophia wasn't helping matters either. Even though they needed every CSI they could lay their hands on, he was beginning to think it would be best if she did move on. She was good at her job but her constant flirting was starting to cause problems. Between that and his ill-conceived notion to take her to dinner to convince her to stay, rumors were now flying around the lab that he was having an affair with her. She was also causing tension on the team, mainly with Sara. Those two mixed like oil and water and he didn't know what to do about it anymore. He knew it was only a matter time before those two got into it and Sara couldn't afford another black mark on her record.

Now Nick's kidnapping.

He was beginning to question everything. A few short months ago, everything had been going his way. Well, everything except his relationship with Sara. A disgusted snort escaped him as the irony of his situation dawned on him. A few months ago, his professional life had been running smoothly while his personal life lay in shambles. Now that his personal life was finally starting to come together, his professional life was falling apart. He no longer felt like he was making a difference here. He hadn't been able to keep his team together and he hadn't been able to help Nick.

Perhaps it was time to consider moving on. Maybe it was time to find another job in another city. To start over fresh. But leaving Las Vegas meant leaving Sara and he didn't know if he had the strength to do that. He couldn't leave her just when they had finally fixed their friendship but he also couldn't ask her to uproot her life again just to follow him. He had no right. He hadn't had any right to do so the first time when he had asked to come to Vegas to investigate Holly Gribbs' murder. He hadn't had any right to do it the second time when he had asked her to stay in Vegas after her investigation was complete. He couldn't do that to her a third time.

Sighing deeply, he rubbed his eyes. He had left off the overhead lights off when he had returned from the hospital but now even the low illumination from his desk lamp was beginning to bother. The headache he had earlier in the night seemed to be determined to grow into a full-blown migraine.

Just then, the air around him changed, became charged and he felt a tingle of anticipation shoot through his body. Before she even spoke, before he even looked up, he knew she was there leaning against his doorframe like she had done so many times before. He had always had a sixth sense when it came to her. Lately though, it had been getting stronger, just like his attraction for her had been getting stronger.

She watched him for a few seconds sensing his inner struggle then grew concerned as he rubbed his eyes which was his tell when a migraine had him in its grip.

"Hey," she called softly.

Raising his head, he responded in kind. "Hey."

"I've been looking all over for you. How are you holding up?"

"Fine." Pointing his pen at the papers laid in front of him, he explained, "Reports. I have to get these done."

After the emotional rollercoaster of the day, she wasn't surprised to find him retreating behind his work again but she didn't really believe he was quite as successful at it as he'd like her to believe. "Which case?" she questioned as she straightened up and strolled over to stand in front of his desk.

"Ah . . .," he hesitated as he quickly scanned the papers for the case name.

"That's what I thought," she said as she reached forward and closed the folder. When he looked up and met her eyes, she smiled softly.

He just stared at her for several seconds then realizing she could see through his lies, he admitted, "I haven't been able to concentrate much."

Even though she sympathized with him, her heart fluttered a little with his admission. A few weeks ago, he never would've admitted such a thing. It was just another little sign that he was finally opening up to her. However, her concern for his well-being quickly took over as she watched him swipe a hand across his face then rub the back of his neck wincing in pain.

"Getting a migraine?"

"Mmm," he mumbled as he shut his eyes. He jumped when he felt her hands begin to massage his shoulders. He hadn't heard her move.

"Did you take your medication?"

"No."

"Gris," she reprimanded as she kneaded a particularly stubborn knot in his neck.

He groaned as the muscles relaxed a little and the fog that had been clouding his mind started to lift. She continued massaging his neck and shoulders for a few minutes then started a slow path down along his spine. As the tension eased from his stiff muscles, her therapeutic touch slowly became softer and more sensual. A new tightness invaded his body and another groan escaped his lips before he could stop it. He abruptly shrugged off her hands before they headed into dangerous territory.

"That's good," he stated gruffly. Clearing his throat, he rolled his chair back up to his desk and grabbed a file from one of the many stacks on his desk. "Uh, thanks." He opened the file and started to study it ignoring her.

Sara huffed. Typical. One step forward, two steps back. But he wasn't going to get rid of her that easily. He needed to relax and get some rest before he collapsed from the pressure of the day.

"Grissom, you need to go home and sleep. It's been a long, stressful day."

"You go ahead and head home. I need to finish this paperwork before Ecklie gets on my case again."

She didn't know if she should scream or if she should cry. She was losing the Grissom that had become her best friend over the last couple months. He was reverting to his old habits and his old ways taking on the blame for everything whether it was his fault or not. Well, she wasn't going to let it happen. She was going to put up a fight. They had come too far, gained too much ground for her to give up on him now. She wasn't going to let him shut her out again.

"Gil," she said softly as she crouched down beside his chair and starting rubbing her open palm in circles over his back.

He shuddered and closed his eyes. His name. She had never used his given name before and the sound of it on her soft, sensual lips was so comforting yet so tantalizing.

"It's not your fault," she said quietly as she continued to rub his back. "There's nothing you could have done. Quit blaming yourself."

When she saw that he wasn't going to respond, she continued. "I know you, Gil. I know that right now you probably feel like if you had been a better supervisor then the team wouldn't have been broken up. And if the team was still together then Nick would've been on nights and he wouldn't have been picking up a swing shift case. Or that if you had been able to negotiate with the kidnapper then this would've all been over sooner. But there's nothing more you could've done."

Without thinking, she lifted her hand from his back and brushed it through his curls. At his shiver, she realized what she had done and quickly pulled her hand back into her lap.

At the loss of contact, he silently begged her to touch him again. It had been so comforting. He had recently noticed how empty his life had been without human contact. And tonight, more than any other night, he wanted – no, needed – that human contact.

She just kept talking hoping to get through the walls that he was building. "Ecklie's the one that broke the team up, not you. You tried to negotiate with the kidnapper and we almost ended up losing you. You did everything you could. No one holds you responsible. Everyone knows you did everything you could. The only person blaming you is you."

She was right. He knew she was but he couldn't quite convince himself of that.

"Go home," she said as she patted him on the shoulder and stood up.

As he watched her walk away, the emptiness he felt inside grew and threatened to swallow him whole. This is what his life had become. Always alone. Always watching people walk out of his life. And he was tired of it. Tired of fighting his feelings. Tired of ignoring his needs. He needed to take a chance. He needed his friends.

He needed Sara.

"Sara."

Almost to the door, she turned around and waited for him to continue.

"I would . . . um, well, the thing is . . . "

She smirked as she stifled a giggle. He was so cute when he stumbled around like that.

He met her gaze and asked, "Would you like to come home with me?" When he realized how that sounded, he quickly broke eye contact and intently studied his pen as he played with it. "I don't think I'd be able to sleep and I don't really feel like being alone so . . . uh, maybe you'd like to come over and just hang out for a while? We could watch a movie or something." Finally, he met her gaze again. "I'd like to spend some time with my friend." He gave her a wry grin and shrugged a little.

She returned the favor with one of her special dazzling smiles. In the last couple months, he'd asked her to his home several times but it had always been in a very casual, nonchalant way. This was the first time he had ever admitted that he needed her even if it was just as a friend.

"I'd love to. I wasn't exactly looking forward to going home to an empty apartment myself."

"Good." He pushed himself away from his desk and shut off the desk lamp. As he started walking towards the door he noticed Sara's puzzled look. "What?" he asked as he glanced back to see if he was missing something.

"You're not taking any paperwork home?"

"It'll still be there tomorrow. It's never disappeared before. I don't expect tonight to be any different."

She laughed as they stepped out of his office. She waited for him to lock his door and then they walked together down the hall and out into the parking lot.

They came to her car first.

"Is there any particular movie you want to see?" Grissom asked. "We could stop at a video store if there was something specific you wanted to see. Or I could stop and pick up us up some food if you're hungry."

She smiled at his thoughtfulness. "I'm not really hungry," she replied, "and I don't think I'd really be able to concentrate much so it doesn't pay renting a video. Let's just watch something from your collection."

"Ok. Well, then, I guess I'll see you in a bit," Grissom said as he tossed his keys back and forth between his hands and started backing away.

"Ok," she replied as she opened her car door and slid inside. She started the engine and waited. Once she saw him back out of his parking spot and turn out of the parking lot, she followed.

Twenty-five minutes later, Grissom pulled into his garage. Sara pulled her car up on his driveway parking behind him. He waited for her to join him in the garage before closing the garage door. Together they walked into his townhouse.

"Help yourself. You know where everything is," Grissom said as he tossed his keys onto the entryway table then walked down the hallway to his bedroom.

She wandered into the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge then headed into the living room. Passing by the coffee table, she snitched a few M&Ms from the candy bowl. Yet another sign of change in Grissom. He used to keep chocolate-covered bugs in it until one day, in a PMS-induced chocolate craving, she bit into one and immediately gagged when she realized it was a grasshopper. She had run into the kitchen spitting the contents of her mouth into the sink while he laughed. But the next time she came over, the bug candy had been replaced by M&Ms. Not only had he given up his candy but she had later found out that it hadn't been just a coincidence that her favorite had happened to show up. Greg had let it slip one day that Grissom had been inquiring about her favorite candy.

Walking over to the cabinets by the TV, she browsed his DVD collection. She definitely didn't want anything too serious. They had had enough drama for one day. She also knew that anything with the slightest hint of romance was out as well. That would only add to the strain between them. What they needed was some sort of comedic reprieve. Thankfully, Grissom's collection contained many such movies that fit the bill. The first time she had been over to watch movies, she had been pleasantly surprised to find that he enjoyed many of the classic comedies like Caddyshack and National Lampoon's Vacation.

She finally found the perfect movie a minute later just as she heard Grissom's bedroom door open. She called out as she turned around, "Hey, how about Monty Python and the Search for the Holy Grail." Her voice trailed off to a whisper as she watched him come down the hall in a gray UNLV T-shirt tucked into some tight-fighting, washed-off jeans. Her mouth went dry and her blood pounded in her ears. There really ought to be a law against looking so damn sexy. She quickly turned away in an effort to get herself under control.

"Yeah, that sounds good," he replied as he stared at her back. He was puzzled when she turned away so quickly and stared intently at the DVD case in her hand keeping her back to him. "Is something wrong?"

"Huh?" she asked as she looked at him over his shoulder.

He felt the heat of her gaze as her eyes raked over his body. His heart jumped and his breathing turned shallow and quick.

"No, nothing's wrong," she squeaked out as she turned away again.

"Alright," he replied. Silence strained the air until he cleared his throat. "I, uh . . . I, uh, laid a T-shirt and shorts out on my bed. I . . ." He had to stop to clear his throat again as he saw her head snap up. "I thought you might be more comfortable."

"Uh, OK, thanks," she replied without turning around.

"I'll, um, just go get us some drinks. What would you like?"

"Whatever you're having will be fine."

"OK." He continued to stare at her back a moment before quickly retreating to the kitchen. Bracing his arms against the countertop, he let his head and shoulders drop as he took several deep, calming breaths.

He didn't know where that had suddenly come from. One minute she was offering friendship and comfort, the next, she was looking at him with a hunger that reached into the pit of his soul and twisted him in desire. He knew that they couldn't go on like this much longer. Either they had to take that next step or end their friendship before this got out of hand. He knew he no longer had the strength to just walk away from her anymore but he just didn't know if he had the courage to open himself up enough to take that next step.

Sara's shoulders sagged as the tension eased once Grissom left the room and his heated stare no longer bored into her back. She couldn't take this tension much longer. She didn't want their friendship to suffer but they couldn't keep this up much longer. It was killing her and lately, she had begun to suspect that Gil wasn't faring much better.

Heading to his bedroom, she shut the door and shed her pants and top, folded them and laid them on the bed without a second thought. Then suddenly, standing there in her underwear, she realized the intimacy of the moment. This is where he slept and dressed. This is where he relaxed and let his defenses down. A shiver of pleasure coursed through her body. Picking up the T-shirt, she brought it up to her face and breathed deeply taking in his special scent. She had borrowed his T-shirts before when she had come over to his townhouse directly from work but tonight was different – special somehow. And she had never worn his shorts before. That somehow was even more intimate.

She quickly pulled the T-shirt over her head then picked up the shorts hoping she could get them to fit somehow. She laughed in relief when she saw that he picked a pair that had a drawstring. It was little things, little considerations like that that touched her. Slipping them on and tying them up, she turned and looked in the mirror hanging over the dresser. She ran her fingers through her hair then headed towards the door. She paused as her hand rested on the doorknob. Coming to a quick decision, she reached up behind her back, released the clasp of her bra and worked the straps down her arms through the sleeves. She quickly tucked it in between her other clothes on the bed. Once again pausing at the door, she took a deep breath, then opened it and headed back to the living room.

Grissom was shaken from his contemplative state when he heard his bedroom door open and her soft footfalls coming down the hallway. Opening up the fridge, he peered inside but found nothing strong enough to take the edge off. Letting the door swing shut, he opened the cupboard beside it and grabbed the bottle of scotch and a glass. Pouring a finger, he brought the glass to his lips and tossed the contents back. Feeling the burn, he poured another round in his glass and set the bottle back in the cupboard then grabbed a bottle of Heineken from the refrigerator. Personally, he didn't like the stuff but since it was Sara's favorite beer, it had become a regular resident of his fridge.

As he stepped back into the living room, he saw Sara bent over putting the DVD into the player. Hot desire curled through his groin when he saw her long, lean legs poking out of his shorts. What a beautiful sight.

Hearing him, she glanced over her shoulder and tossed him a smile. "Perfect timing," she stated as she hit the Play button on the DVD player.

Lifting up the bottle in his hand, he said, "I still had one of your Heinekens in the fridge. I figured you wouldn't want scotch."

"Thanks," she replied.

"I'll have to pick some more up before you come over the next time."

Both walked around the coffee table to meet in front of the couch.

He held out her drink to her. As she reached for it, her fingers closed over his around the cold, sweaty bottle. Electricity passed between them. Their eyes met and time seemed to stand still.

His eyes slowly slid downwards drinking in her lush parted lips, her long, smooth neck, finally settling on the hardened pebbles poking at the soft fabric of his T-shirt. He swallowed hard.

She watched his Adam's apple bob and her breath caught in her throat. Her gaze skated over his hard chest and abs then down to the bulge in his jeans. Her eyes skittered away in slight embarrassment but giddiness spread through her as she now had proof that he was affected as well.

Their eyes traveled back upwards studying each other until once again their eyes met. The heat radiating from his gaze gave her the courage to slip the bottle from his grasp and set it down on the coffee table. She stepped forward never breaking eye contact then slipped his glass from his other hand and set it down beside her beer.

Taking another step forward, they now stood only inches apart. He slowly raised his hand, brushed her hair back over her shoulder then wrapped his hand around the side of her neck. His thumb slowly traced her jaw back and forth.

Her eyelids slowly slid shut as a shiver raced down her spine.

When her eyes drifted open, he drowned in the warm chocolate pools. His attention was caught as the tip of her tongue peeked out and wet her lips. He leant forward until only a wisp of air separated them. Their breath mingled. Then he slowly brushed his lips across hers.

Just a whisper of a touch but it changed everything. Their first kiss. It was nothing like she had fantasized. It was nothing like he had imagined. But it was perfect.

They stood nearly cheek-to-cheek. Eyes closed. Lost in the moment.

"Sara?" he whispered.

She moaned as his warm breath brushed over her ear.

He didn't need to say more. Everything he wanted, everything he needed to know was expressed in the way he caressed her name.

"Yes," she breathed.

She heard him swallow then felt his warm breath as his lips hovered over hers once again.

Sparks flew as their lips met. Then met again and again. He licked her lower lip and when she moaned, he slipped his tongue inside. Their kisses became intense and heated. Hands started wandering and exploring. His hands slipped under her top and fingertips slowly brushed against her lower back. She whimpered and started pulling his shirt from his jeans.

One hand settled at the side of her waist while the other skimmed upwards over the smooth skin of her back. When he didn't encounter any bra straps, he groaned and broke the kiss. Resting his forehead against hers, he struggled to catch his breath. Several long, intense moments passed before he could speak.

"Sara, sweetheart, are you sure? I don't want to rush this."

She laid a hand on his cheek then kissed him slowly, deeply, intimately, pouring all her love and passion and trust into it. Pulling back she gazed at him until he opened his eyes to meet hers.

"Seven years is not rushing it," she whispered.

A groan rose from the depths of his chest. Wrapping his arms around her, their lips and tongues mated in a ritual as old as time.

Turning her, he slowly guided her backwards down the hall towards his bedroom.

Lips and tongues met over and over again as hands explored. Their feet tangled and they fell against the wall. He pinned her wrists above her head and ravished her neck. Trailing his fingers down along the sensitive underside of her arms and along her sides, he slipped his hands under the soft cotton T-shirt. He skimmed his hands back up along her sides. They broke apart as he pulled the shirt over Sara's head and stripped the T-shirt off. Once her arms were free, she leaned in for another passion-filled kiss as she slipped her hands under his shirt and ran them over his chest luxuriating in the freedom to touch his body.

She gasped has his hands cupped her breasts. Leaning down, he captured a pebbled peak in his hot mouth and suckled. Her hands smoothed over his hips then caressed his straining flesh through his rough denim jeans. A guttural groan ripped through his body as he felt her nimble fingers stroke and knead his throbbing manhood. He squeezed his hand over hers increasing the pressure before drawing it away.

Grabbing her hand, he quickly pulled her along to his bedroom. Once inside, he tangled his hands in her hair. Kissing her deeply, he guided her to the edge of the bed. He slipped a leg between hers and she moaned as her aching flesh rubbed against his hard, muscular thigh. Resting his knee against the edge of the bed, he bent her backwards until they collapsed in a heap on the soft bed. Lips and hands continued their urgent exploration as clothes flew every which way until only underwear remained.

Halting, they stared into each other's eyes. This is what they had been waiting for all these years. This is what all the flirting and teasing had been about.

She slipped a finger beneath the waistband of his boxers and let it glide along his waist. She watched in fascination has his eyes darkened with fiery desire then slammed shut as she slipped both hands beneath the material and slipped it down his thighs. He groaned as his aching flesh was released from its confining prison. Rolling to his side, he kicked his legs free of the boxers then turned his attentions back to Sara.

He ran a fingertip along the lacy waistband of Sara's purple thong. Fiery need shot through him as her abdomen quivered at his touch. He curled a finger around the thin band on her hip and slowly dragged the silky material down her long, slender legs then threw it over his shoulder.

He caressed her milky inner thigh and her legs parted. She moaned as his fingers dipped into her hot, wet flesh. At her pleading "Gil, please," he rested himself in the cradle of her thighs and moved his body over hers. Entwining his fingers with hers, he slowly rocked back and forth. Her whimpers nearly took him over the edge.

Her head tossed back and forth among the pillows as his hard shaft teased her throbbing flesh. Her body ached as it drew nearer and nearer the great precipice yet he continued his torture.

"Oh God, Gil, please," she begged for release. Suddenly, her back arched and her limbs tensed. She screamed as she tumbled over the edge.

As awareness slowly returned to her, she realized how stiffly Gil was holding himself. Wrapping her legs around his thighs and caressing his back with long strokes, she started rocking her hips caressing his hard flesh. He moaned deeply and she captured his lips. Breaking the kiss, she whispered, "Take me. I'm yours."

Gasping, he pulled back slightly then slowly entered her. Moans filled the air as her hot, wet flesh encased his engorged length. He set a slow, agonizing pace as he struggled for control knowing that he couldn't last much longer.

"Please, baby," she pleaded and he lost control.

They came together in burning need as they urged each other on. She released another scream as she fell into the great precipice again. As her pulsating walls clenched around his swollen flesh, he spilled himself inside her.

They collapsed together gasping for breath.

As rational thought returned, Gil braced himself on his forearms lifting some of his weight off her. He brushed away the hair sticking to her cheeks and forehead and buried his hands in her hair. He laid a short, sweet kiss on her soft, swollen lips then brushed a thumb over those sweet lips as he stroked her cheek with the back of his other hand.

Reveling in his soft caresses, she opened her eyes to stare into the ocean depths of his. The swirling emotions she saw there filled her heart to bursting and her own emotions poured forth. "Gil, I love you."

A brief flare lit his eyes only to be quickly masked with fear and uncertainty. His sudden stillness sent shivers of fear and regret down her spine.

Those words. He had avoided those words all his adult life yet here they were. He couldn't run anymore. He didn't want to run anymore but still he was afraid to let her in that far, to make himself that vulnerable. He searched her eyes intensely looking for reassurance, for truth, for love. And he found it.

"Sara, I . . . " He swallowed. "Sara, honey, I . . . uh . . . I . . . " But the words wouldn't come out. He couldn't get them out.

She placed a finger across his lips silencing his efforts. "Shh, it's alright," she whispered even as her eyes sparkled with unspent tears. "I don't expect any grand declarations."

Her words hurt because he knew he was hurting her. But worse than that was the loss of hope and the acceptance of his shortcomings that he saw in her eyes. He rolled over onto his back just so he didn't have to see it anymore. Why couldn't he be more emotionally available? Why did he have to keep hurting her like that? He flung an arm over his eyes with a small groan.

They laid in silence for several moments lost in their own thoughts and emotions.

"Sara, I know . . . "

"I said it's alright," she muttered in bitter impatience.

"Sara, please, let me say this." He accepted her silence as acquiescence and continued. "I've never felt for anyone what I feel for you. You've become everything to me, especially these last few months. You're my companion, my confidant, my best friend and my lover. But I just . . . I just can't say _those_ words. I can't imagine my life anymore without you in it but I just can't."

Turning onto his side to face her, he propped himself up on his elbow and rested his head in his palm. He watched her as she stared at the ceiling.

"Sara," he implored.

She turned her head briefly meeting his eyes before continuing her study of his ceiling.

"I do, you know." At her puzzled glance, he flailed his free hand helplessly struggling to come up with something that would explain his feelings without saying _that_ word. "I feel it, Sara. I really do." He laid his hand on her taut stomach then slid it around to circle her waist.

The honest, raw emotion in his voice struck a chord within her. She looked at him again this time being overwhelmed with the raw emotion laid bare in his eyes. The fear had been replaced by – dare she hope – love. Turning onto her side to face him, she caressed his cheek. Never before had she seen such raw intensity in his gaze. Then the truth struck her. He really did love her. It just had always been clouded with fear, doubt, uncertainty and a multitude of other confusing emotions. She leaned in and poured all her love and hope into one soul-searching kiss hoping to bolster his courage and reassure him of her own love at the same time. Pulling back, she turned onto her other side and snuggled back against him leaving the next step up to him.

"Sara?" He was confused by the kiss and everything he had felt in it only to have her turn her back on him.

"I know. I do," she sincerely replied. Then so quietly he almost didn't hear it, she whispered, "It just would be nice to hear the words."

He sighed as he rolled onto his back now conducting his own study of the ceiling. After several minutes of silence, he noticed the change in her breathing as she fell into slumber. He pulled the sheets up tucking them around his lover before laying back to contemplate his situation.

Sara slowly woke to feathery strokes along her arm and soft lips brushing against the back of her shoulder. "Mmmm," she murmured as the pleasant sensations set her nerves tingling. Then the memories came flooding back. He might love her. Gilbert Grissom might really love her!

Rolling onto her back, she gazed up at her lover.

They made love slowly learning each sensitive spot, each ticklish area, each erogenous zone. The backs of her knees that were ticklish. The spot on his throat just below his chin that made him moan when she licked it. The spot below her ear that made her shiver in pleasure whenever he blew on it. The muscle that quivered every time she stroked his thigh.

Along with the new knowledge of each other's bodies, a new emotional awareness intensified their lovemaking. It was tender and moving. It was soul-baring and soul-merging. Their love soared to new heights as their bodies merged in an act as old as time.

As they reveled in their emotional union, they gazed into each other's eyes. There was no more hiding, no more uncertainty, no more doubt.

Staring deep into her eyes, he took the next step without fear and without hesitation.

"Sara, honey, I love you."

_The End_

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A/N: Thank you for taking this journey with me. Reviews are always welcome and appreciated. If you have been following my story In This Together, Forever, a new update will be coming within about a week.


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